


evanescence

by eyeronicmuch



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Pining, based off of a tumblr dialogue prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-16
Updated: 2019-02-16
Packaged: 2019-10-29 20:53:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17815334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eyeronicmuch/pseuds/eyeronicmuch
Summary: “Love is overrated.”Kun turns his head to his right, towards the man beside him. Yuta is sitting next to him, looking off into the distance of the endless horizon. It’s summer, and they’re by the beach, sitting on the wooden pier, ankles submerged underwater to somehow relieve themselves of the heat. The weather is mildly hot, and Yuta’s continuously dyed blond hair sticks to his nape and shiny, from sweat, forehead, but even then, with the way the sun illuminates his skin, casting a glowing halo over his head, he looks even more gorgeous despite his tired state.





	evanescence

**Author's Note:**

> yukun are so wholesome :(  
> also this was actually meant to be a small drabble i have no idea how it turned out much longer than intended djjd + this isn’t proofread or anything and probably has typos,, but nonetheless i hope you enjoy!
> 
> for my love <3

“Love is overrated.”

Kun turns his head to his right, towards the man beside him. Yuta is sitting next to him, looking off into the distance of the endless horizon. It’s summer, and they’re by the beach, sitting on the wooden pier, ankles submerged underwater to somehow relieve themselves of the heat. The weather is mildly hot, and Yuta’s continuously dyed blond hair sticks to his nape and shiny, from sweat, forehead, but even then, with the way the sun illuminates his skin, casting a glowing halo over his head, he looks even more gorgeous despite his tired state.

“Did you get dumped again?” Is all Kun can ask.

“Yeah.” Yuta sounds a bit bitter, which harshly contrasts with the usual sweet tone of his voice. He always is, after breaking up with someone. Though today he sounds sadder than usual. He must’ve really liked that girl whose hair was ridiculously long and as dark as the night, although her eyes looked gentle, even though her gaze turned into glares when Kun was around them, or around Yuta, specifically. 

“It’s okay,” Kun comforts. “you know, as they say, if a person leaves your life, it means a better one will enter it.”

Yuta lets out a small laugh. “You always know what to say.” He turns to Kun, expression soft as ever, “You’re right. Maybe I will. Maybe I won’t.”

“Of course you will.”

Yuta hums. “My statement still stands. Love is overrated. Relationships come and go, but friendships are with you for life.” 

The way he’s looking at Kun makes the latter’s cheeks unknowingly heat up, and Kun hates that Yuta still has that effect on him by doing the bare minimum.

“Some friendships don’t work out either.” Kun retorts.

“That’s also true,” Yuta answers before he splashes water onto Kun’s thigh with his leg. “I do hope we’ll stay friends until we’ll grow grey and bald.” He grins brighter than the sun above them upon Kun’s scrunched nose at the coldness of the sea water as he squirms in displeasure. 

“Yeah,” Kun sighs, a bit too loudly, a bit too defeated, “me too.”

_Friends._

A word Kun grew to both love and hate, but can you blame him? Harbouring feelings much deeper than friendship for your best friend isn’t exactly pleasant, nor something Kun had planned to do, but there he was, having a giant crush on Yuta, his platonic soulmate, for over five years already. And no matter what, they just can’t seem to go away.

How did it start? Kun doesn’t remember. Yuta was loud and boisterous, his personality clashed with Kun’s calm and collected one, but maybe that’s what drew Kun to Yuta in the first place. Yuta was unpredictable, chaotic even, an equation Kun, being the mathematic he is, wanted to solve. Over the years Kun’s feelings blurred themselves into something barely readable, Kun himself only understood he was hopelessly pining after Sicheng pointed it out. 

However, as painful as it sounds, Kun is okay with them not being reciprocated. He’s patient. He studies extra hard to get his mind off things, and just waits for the butterflies inside his stomach to simmer down, and hopefully, dissolve for good. But then again, liking Yuta has been oh so nice, so far at least. 

(Kun is no literature major, that’s his friend Johnny’s major, but he does like comparing his feelings to forces of nature.) 

It’s a pleasant, warm feeling – like sailing in the calm sea at the sunset, Yuta being coloured with deep shades of oranges and purple, the sun being not as bright but still as blinding, it’s beautiful and breathtaking– Yuta, always, is breathtaking. Liking Yuta is as peaceful was watching the stars glimmer at night – mysterious and unreachable, above everyone, oh so far far away. It’s somehow like watching the flowers bloom; Kun is convinced Yuta is capable of healing every broken soul with that heart-fluttering smile of his. 

“Are you up for partying tonight?”

And Kun can’t disagree, even though they have midterms in a week, even though Yuta has low alcohol tolerance and will probably spend the evening crying on Kun’s shoulder about how upset he is because of ex, using Kun’s embrace as emotional support and his favourite shirt as a napkin for his tears.

(One thing Kun really likes about Yuta is how he always wears his heart on his sleeve, is open about his emotions, unlike Kun’s emotionally constipated self, and how Yuta isn’t ashamed of what he feels. 

Yuta says he expresses enough for both of them, cries on Kun’s behalf, and Kun is really thankful for that.)

 

“I really liked her, Kun,” Yuta sobs, doe eyes brimming with overflowing transparent pearls, as he buries his face into Kun’s neck, much like a cat. His long eyelashes tickle Kun, but the latter only coos and pats his fluffy head, whispering soft words of comfort.

“It’s okay, it’s been a week already. She isn’t worth your tears.” His soft voice is barely heard because of the loudness of the thumping music of the party. 

“She said I was too loud and too emotional, like,” Yuta hiccups, “I know I’m all of that, but I don’t think there was any need to say that my positive outlook on life is getting on her delicate nerves, she knows it’s my coping mechanism, to see the light in things, but she said it was annoying.” 

Kun frowns deeply.

“Am I that annoying?” Yuta wipes his eyes with the back of his palm, smudging his eyeliner in the process. 

And something in Kun switches on, because he grabs Yuta’s face (gently) with his soft palms, and looks him straight in the eye. “Yuta, you’re anything but annoying. You’ve dated that girl for nearly two months and it’s a huge shame that she hasn’t seemed to notice all these wonderful aspects of your personality, like how amazing and kind you are, and honestly, I want to give her the benefit of the doubt and say that she snapped at you, maybe, because she was going through a rough time, possibly, but since she ended things because of such a fundamental part of you, fuck her.”

Yuta laughs, and for the first time this evening, it’s sincere. “You’re an angel.”

“Huh?” 

“You really are.” His haze is locked with Kun’s, and Kun thinks his starry eyes are deeper than usual. “It’s probably the first time I’ve heard you curse in a while, too.”

Kun flushes, even though he smiles widely, “Oh, that’s horrible, isn’t it.” 

“It’s outrageous,” Yuta grins, “for Qian Kun, the resident goody two shoes, to swear at a person.”

Kun checks the watch; it’s late, long past midnight, and even though the party is in full swing he doesn’t feel like being in the party’s suffocating atmosphere any longer. “What do you say we head out?”

Yuta stands up by reaching for Kun’s hand to steady himself, but instead of letting go he simply intertwines their fingers, a gesture that he hasn’t done in a while, and Kun’s heart starts beating twice as fast.

The summer nights are quite chilly, especially near the sea, but Kun felt more than warm on the way to their dorm, under the sky of countless bleak stars. 

“Love is really overrated, huh,” Yuta says quietly, out of the blue, rocking their interlocked hands back and forth. Kun doesn’t know what to say or do except nod his head weakly, disagreeing internally. Love is nice, all the emotions and feelings you get to experience are pretty nice, even if it hurts a little bit. 

“Thanks for being my friend,” Yuta gives Kun a bear hug before retiring for the night, leaving a trace of coldness behind him and a huge hole right in the middle of Kun’s chest, and ouch, maybe it hurts more than a little bit after all. 

 

The next week Kun spends slaving in the library, drowning in books and assignments. He’s running on approximately four to five hours of sleep everyday and still refuses to drink coffee.

“You’re crazy,” Yuta exclaims, sliding on the chair opposite of Kun.

“And you’re loud.” Kun shuts him up by pointing into the worn out _’Be quiet’_ sign to his left that could be seen from all angles of the library.

“And you’re stressed.” Yuta frowns, resting his chin on one hand, an iced coffee in another. 

“More than ever,” Kun groans, red eyes staring to hurt from the bright screen of his laptop. He kind of envies Yuta’s well rested (handsome) face, but then again, not everyone is naturally smart. Kun has to work his ass off for perfect grades and even despite that, he still comes second to Yuta. “Aren’t you cold?” 

“A little bit. It’s really hot outside right now so I stopped by Starbucks, but I didn’t expect it to be so freezing inside of here.” Yuta’s lips quirk up by a little bit when Kun reaches for his backpack to give him his spare sweatshirt. “I’m not giving this back, by the way,” he says as he puts it over his head. It’s nice and warm, and smells of lavender and peaches and everything sweet, and Kun’s eyebrows furrow at the hesitancy. 

“Fine.” He mutters after an internal debate, resuming to type is essay on non-Euclidean space. Yuta stole countless of his sweatshirts over the years and Kun couldn’t lie and agree that they look much better on him anyway. 

Not even a minute passes in silence when Yuta starts speaking again, “It’s eight in the morning on a Saturday, did you even sleep at all today?” 

Upon seeing Kun shake his head, Yuta slides his half-drunk americano over to him, ice slushing inside the plastic cup. “Have my coffee. You look like you’re about to fall asleep any second now.”

“Coffee only makes me sleepier,” Kun adds but takes a sip nonetheless. The cup is cold against his hand, and the coffee is too bitter for his liking. He makes a sour expression, “How do you even drink this stuff?”

Yuta laughs of musical notes and harmonies, and reaches back for his drink. “Cute.” He downs it in one go, “And because it’s good, and coffee, much like for 90% of the students here is the reason we’re alive during stress season.”

Kun ignores the previous remark, huffing, “What are you doing here at eight on a Saturday? Last time I checked you much prefer to sleep until twelve.”

Yuta only grins, his expression fond, “For emotional support, of course.”

The librarian glares their way when Kun snorts. “Much appreciated,” he says, before looking a bit offended on how he got scolded instead of Yuta, “but emotional support isn’t enough, you know what I mean?”

“Not really,” Yuta thinks for a moment. “However, if you get all As i’ll take you out somewhere.”

“Deal.” Kun replies in an instant. “Only not McDonald’s, please.”

“Kun, as much as i’d love to take you to a normal restaurant, we’re both broke. So take it or leave it.”

“You’re paying.”

“Of course I am.” 

 

Maybe it’s because of Yuta’s promise, or maybe because Kun is a perfectionist that stresses but studies too much, but he does get the highest marks on all his assignments and so Yuta stays true to his word.

_**Yuta:**  
I’ll pick you up at 6. OK?_

_**You:**  
Sure._

Kun would be lying if he’d said he wasn’t exhausted, honestly he’d rather crash and sleep for the next two days, but right now he feels a bit excited and really nervous, and even more awake, as if he’d drank four cups of coffee in one go.

_**Yuta:**  
UWU see you soon! <3_

The heart. Kun freaks out. 

“What should I wear?!”

 

“So you’re telling me you’re dressing up for a fast food date?” Sicheng asks, lying on Kun’s bed and totally paying attention to Kun’s ramblings. The former is fixated on some sort of video game alike to an agar.io ripoff, frowning when Kun yanks the phone away from him.

“Firstly, it’s not a date,” Kun corrects and Sicheng rolls his eyes, “and secondly, I prefer dressing nicely unlike you, for example.”

“Do you have a problem with my fashion sense?” Sicheng borderline whines. Ironically, he’s wearing an oversized sweatshirt over bright red basketball sweatpants and neon yellow socks on _sandals_. Kun shudders slightly.

“Not at all, now please help me?” He pleads, rummaging through his closet, taking out a navy blue turtleneck, and then a black one.

“Literally half of your closet consists of turtlenecks, wait, are those all of the same brand? Goodness!” Sicheng snorts a little when Kun takes out a light grey turtleneck and raises an eyebrow in question. 

“Maybe,” Kun mutters, “but which colour should I wear today? The cherry red? The dark grey?”

“Well it depends,” Sicheng purses his lips in thought, stroking his chin as if he’s trying to come up with something smart, “are you going for the english teacher look? Or perhaps for the physics one? Or maybe you’re coming for Steve Job’s brand?”

“Oh shut up,” Kun groans, and then shrieks at the abrupt knock on the door. “He’s here!” He hisses through Sicheng’s low-pitched laughter, “Oh my god!”

“Calm down, princess,” Sicheng wheezes out and slaps his own thigh, “just put on a sweater and go.”

“But my hair! I didn’t style it!”

“Kun, it’s a McDonald’s date, _McDonald’s_ , for God’s sake!” Sicheng tries to calm down the ball of stress before him, but evidently doesn’t do a good job at it. “Not one at the rooftop of Ritz Carlton over the night view of the city, not even the one at a bar. Calm down,” he adds, voice much softer, “Yuta isn’t the one to judge you for what you’re wearing. He’d love however you look anyways.”

“Right. Yeah,” Kun puts the turtleneck in his arms over his head, his hair electrifying and sticking out in random directions as he runs to open the door. Yuta stares at him with wide eyes before breaking into a blinding smile.

“You look like a physics teacher who made an experiment that went horribly wrong.”

Kun greets him with a roll of his eyes, ignoring the comment, too focused on Yuta, who’s wearing his own sweatshirt, his handsome face, smiley eyes, wide grin, his earrings and piercings, and.. hair.

“Did you re-dye your hair again?”

“What do you mean?” Yuta looks mildly offended, scandalized even, as if Kun disrespected his late grandmother. “I’m naturally blond, thank you very much.” He runs a hand through his wavy locks and his wavy hair makes him look like that hot surfer instructor you see on commercials and tv shows, only Yuta isn’t buff, nor tall, and unfortunately, can’t surf. (He is hot though.)

“Naturally dumb too, then, right?” Sicheng shouts from Kun’s room, and Yuta snorts. “That’s not funny, Sicheng,” he says back. “I’ll be borrowing your friend if you’ll let me!”

“Sure!” Sicheng shouts back, “You don’t have to return him. He’s all yours.” And Kun should be the one feeling offended, but can’t stop the growing smile on his face as Yuta grabs onto his arm.

“Noted,” He grins and turns to Kun, “Shall we go?”

Summer’s evenings have the perfect weather. It’s not too hot, but not too cold either. After their very high class dinner Yuta dragged Kun over to the beach and Kun was more than happy to comply. It’s still light outside, with the sun starting to roll over to the other side of the broad horizon, slowly turning the mould of the sky into contrasting colours of blue and orange. The warm sea breeze ruffles Kun’s hair, messing it up chaotically, and as Kun tries to style it back without much success he hears Yuta take a picture. 

“The sea is in the other direction.” He points out, visibly flustered.

“I’m aware,” Yuta says back, rotating his phone and continuing to take more photos, all of Kun. “Did I mention that you look really good today?”

Kun flushes the colour of corals. “You did not.”

“Well, you look really good. You always do.”

Something inside of Kun churns, maybe it’s the butterflies ricocheting against his chest or maybe the hamburger he ate was bad, but nonetheless, he felt weird. Yuta’s words were too honest, too intimate. 

“Um, thanks?”

Another shot. And Yuta’s looking at him with an unreadable expression, though his eyes contain softness and warmth, face highlighted by the colours of the setting sun, and Kun thinks Yuta really should be taking pictures of himself. 

“These look amazing,” Yuta practically squeals when he’s swiping through the camera roll, a wide grin on his face that only widens with every flick of his thumb. There are two suns here right now – one in the sky and one right beside Kun, showing off proudly his photography skills. Kun took photography classes a few years back; he can see that the perspective is a bit off, that’s he is more to the left in the frame, the pictures are too dark or too light, but that doesn’t matter at all. Yuta’s hopeful expression, happy face and his effort make Kun smile that soft smile of his and put one of the photos as his profile picture.

“Aren’t I a good photographer,” Yuta says smugly.

“The best.” Kun replies, feeling extra warm under Yuta’s gaze. It’s so tender and so gentle, and Kun can’t help but think that something changed after the party, or maybe he’s reading too much into things. He shakes the feeling off, pushing his hopefulness down, but when they’re walking back to the dorms and Yuta reaches for Kun’s hand, he allows himself to be hopeful for once.

 

“So, how was your date?” Sicheng asks, sitting on the couch in the living room as soon as Kun enters the dorm room. He’s lazily scrolling through TV channels with one had and eating chips with another. Kun frowns.

“What are you still doing here? Don’t eat anything on the couch! And how many times do I have to tell you that it wasn’t a date.” Kun scolds, taking off his shoes and coat. 

“I now live here.” Sicheng deadpans, “Hi, Yuta,” he says after, sounding bored and not taking his eyes off the television screen, “how was your date?”

“‘Twas great.”

Kun nearly jumps out of his skin, barely missing Yuta’s response. “ _Since_ when? And you frightened me!” He turns to his friend, “Did you forget something?” 

“Yeah,” Yuta giggles, “Forgot to do this.” He grabs Kun’s face and pushes it closer to plant a soft kiss on his cheek. He pulls back with a mischievous smile, cooing at Kun’s stilled expression, and then ruffles his hair. Quite contrasting actions. “See you tomorrow!” He waves and walks away.

“Earth to Kun?” Sicheng knocks him out of his trance.

“W-what just happened?” Kun stutters, burying his face in his hands. His whole head is spinning with overflowing questions. Friends don’t casually do that, right?

Sicheng tsks, but he’s evidently amused at Kun’s flustered state. “Told you so.” 

 

“This is weird.”

Kun is wrapped in many blankets on the couch, much like a cocoon, with Sicheng sitting next to him, solving a sudoku puzzle on his mobile phone. 

“What exactly?”

“Yuta.”

“He’s already weird. Ya know, he doesn’t fit it.”

Kun snorts, “That is not what I meant. I mean, recently he’s been more touchy than usual? I know Yuta likes skin ship, but he’s been initiating it a lot, like really. He hugs me all the time, holds my hand, plays with my hair and stuff, it even looks like he has stars in his eyes when I’m around.” Kun sighs, “His eyes hold so many stars.” 

Sicheng makes a grimace, but doesn’t comment on the cheesiness. “Why are you complaining? That’s like your dream come true.”

“Shut up,” Kun groans, “skin ship is one thing but the kiss? What was that supposed to mean?”

Sicheng arches an brow. “I do remember someone telling me ‘communication is key’ when I was running away from Jaehyun. Do you recall?”

Kun pouts, but nods.

“Didn’t you talk things out?” Sicheng’s voice is soft, as if he was talking to a child, and Kun does feel small at that moment. Big blankets, big universes, big fears.

“Nope,” Kun falls back against the couch and stares at the ceiling. There’s a crack in it that he should fix, and some of the paint faded, making it look even sadder than it already is. “It’s like nothing happened. And you know me, i’m too much of a scaredy cat to ask anything about it. What if it was like a dudebro thing?”

“ _Dudebro?_ Really?” Sicheng peels the layers of blankets off of Kun. “What kind of level of bromance is that?”

“I don’t know, Sicheng, I’m just so confused. I mean, he broke up with his ex just two weeks ago. And he liked her a lot.”

“And? Maybe whatever you did at that party made him realize that he has had you by his side all this time. Feelings change you know. Who wouldn’t fall in love with you, the kindest soul on this planet?”

Kun blushes, but only a little. “You’re being too nice to me, but thank you, I really appreciate it.” Sicheng leans on his shoulder, much like he did when they were young, and Kun feels warm at the gesture. “You’re a finance student yet i’m the rational one out of both of us.” Sicheng whispers, “Talk things out.” 

 

Kun now truly understands how Sicheng felt those months ago, because confrontation is scary as hell. He can’t bring himself to ask about his and Yuta’s relationship, because much to his confusion (and delight), the line between friendship and something much deeper has been blurred a while ago. And it’s both frustrating but so so nice.

Him and Yuta are strolling on the quay, eating cones of ice-cream, that they ditched class in favour of. The sun is blazing above them, and Kun feels that his head is so hot it’s able to fry an egg. Yuta, on the other hand, is wearing a bucket hat that shields him from the raging sun rays and it should look ugly, but Yuta somehow makes it work, like he always does. There are thin-framed glasses perched on the slope of his nose that could barely be seen under the hat, and they make him look more elegant, even though he’s dressed as if he just got out of the gym. The sleeveless shirt he’s in reveals his toned arms, and wow, did Yuta start working out again?

“Your ice-scream is dripping.” Yuta points out, laughing, and Kun instantly snaps back to reality. He curses lightly under his breath, both because of him staring so obviously and because his ice-cream is dripping right onto the pavement. 

“Goodness,” Kun sighs in defeat, “it’s too hot.” He doesn’t know if he means the weather or yuta at that moment. 

“You’re hot.” Yuta smirks. 

“Huh?” Kun splutters, cheeks aflame.

“I said,” Yuta repeats, eyes teasing, “aren’t you hot in that jacket?”

“Oh,” Kun fans himself with his free hand, “I guess, yeah,” he finishes the cone and takes the jacket off his shoulders and ties its sleeves around his hips. “Thanks.” Cheeks still as red as tomatoes, he wonders if he misheard Yuta or if the latter is just messing with him.

“Welcome,” Yuta looks as mischievous as ever, throwing not so subtle looks at Kun as they walk, and he feels too nervous all of a sudden.

“Is there something on my face?”

“Actually, yes,” Yuta leans closer and points at Kun’s cheek.

His touch burns. Everything burns, especially Kun’s ears that are deeper than the colour of cherries. “Are you going to pull that stunt in front of my dorm room now something along those lines?” He blurts out. 

“No?” Yuta looks confused for a second, “There’s vanilla smudged on your nose and lip.”

“Oh, thank you,” Kun wipes at his face, even more flushed.

“But if you want me to, I could.” Yuta says nonchalantly, as if he didn’t just flip Kun’s stomach upside down.

“Don’t!” Kun breathes out ragged breaths, sweating profoundly, “don’t,” he says, much softer. “Don’t just say things like that, don’t play with me like that. Please.”

Yuta opens his mouth to explain, but Kun interrupts, overwhelmed. “I have to go,” he says lamely, panic arising, “I’m sorry, i’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Kun, wait–” Yuta catches his wrist before the latter could flee.

“Don’t.” Kun says tiredly, not wanting to hear what Yuta had to say, “Sort your feelings out and then we’ll talk, okay? Please let me go.”

Yuta’s eyes fill with endless worries but he complies, “Okay, I hope you get home safe.”

“You as well.”

 

Kun blinks unshed tears away, however by the time he gets to his and Sicheng’s shared room his heart is still violently thumping against his chest and his breathing is still ragged. Surprisingly, Sicheng is out, and for once Kun wishes he wasn’t. Bearing overflowing thoughts alone is difficult. So Kun plops down onto the couch, ignoring Yuta’s worried messages and massages his temples to somehow stop the growing headache, and later falls asleep trying to think about anything but what just happened or could have happened. (He fails.)

Kun is a professional at ghosting people, but ignoring your best friend, especially since you go to the same university, have the same circle of friends, and see each other every day is near impossible. Inevitably he runs into Yuta one way of another, and it’s really awkward, so to say. Yuta constantly looks like he wants to ask Kun something, but Kun gives him a smile that says _Not now_ and they leave it at that. He’s never been awkward with Yuta, ever.

It’s weird – not receiving daily messages from Yuta or skipping classes together. Yuta is Kun’s constant, without him everything seems to fall apart. No more emotional support, no more end-of-the-day massages, no one to prepare an extra lunch box for. Kun asked for space, and the space Yuta gave him seemed to eat him up. Two weeks is the breaking point; Kun grows sulky.

“I miss him,” Kun mopes.

“I know,” Sicheng says, “it’s not like it’s your tenth time saying it this hour.”

“Let me be sad in peace.”

“I am.” Sicheng quirks an eyebrow, then focuses his attention onto the magazine he was reading. Not even a couple of pages later he closes it completely after hearing Kun sigh deeply yet again. Elon Musk’s interview can wait. “Alright, that’s enough.”

“What of?”

“Of,” Sicheng saves with his hands, “This. You avoiding Yuta, ignoring him when you promised to talk things out, of you running away.” Kun winces a bit. “I’m texting Yuta to come over and you will communicate like responsible adults you’re supposed to be and i’m not taking no for an answer.” 

“But–”

“No ‘buts’! I’m tired of seeing both of you look like kicked kittens.” Sicheng changes into outdoor clothes and puts on his new adidas, “it’s now or never.”

“Where are you going?”

“To Jaehyun’s. Yuta said he’ll be over in a few. I’m giving you both space.”

“Sicheng,” Kun pleads, “You can’t put me into such an uncomfortable situation just like that, you know me,” he reasons, but Sicheng just gives him a bored look. “Fuck you.” He huffs. 

“You’ll be thanking me!” Sicheng heads out, not bothering to lock Kun in or even close the door because he knows Kun won’t escape no matter how hard he wants to.

There’s a soft knock on the door not even ten minutes later and Kun stiffens instantly, muscles tensing even more. “Kun, can I come in?”

“The door’s open.” 

Yuta steps inside awkwardly. He’s dressed in simple casual wear but he looks so good and Kun hates that he’s missed him so much when it’s only been a couple of days, and god, as much as Kun misses his natural hair blond looks so good on him.

“Can we talk?” Yuta asks, but Kun doesn’t hear him – he’s too focused on Yuta’s deep, alluring eyes that are like quicksand, his rows of piercings that twinkle like stars among the night sky, his nose, lips–

“Kun?” 

“Um,” Kun squeaks, “yeah, sure, about?”

“Well,” Yuta scratches the back of his neck before sitting down on the other end of the sofa, “how long?”

“Excuse me?” Kun’s eyes widen slightly.

“For how long have you liked me?”

His breath got knocked out his lungs. “Um, for a while? Is it that obvious?”

“To be honest, I had no idea, but I got knocked some sense into me.” Yuta chuckles, but it comes out a bit forced. To Kun, the tension between them is suffocating. 

“Sicheng won’t ever see his precious console ever again.” Kun huffs, a bit embarrassed. He feels sliced open, bear, having his deepest feelings revealed like that. He’s always been afraid of rejection, but strangely, he never minded it with Yuta, if his feelings ever were to be known. He guesses now’s the chance. 

Yuta breaks into a smile he’s trying to suppress, but he doesn’t speak. He’s staring at Kun, and again, Kun can’t decipher what in the world the stars in Yuta’s eyes are supposed to mean. There’s silence in the cramped apartment, it’s almost deafening. “What’s taking you so long to reject me?” Kun whispers.

“What makes you think i’m going to?” Yuta sits closer. 

“Well, many factors actually, like for example, you don’t feel the same way?” Kun shuffles further away from Yuta, but the latter only moves closer. 

“But I do.”

“Huh?” Briefly, Kun looks Yuta in the eye and instantly averts his gaze. “But, your ex–”

“Kun,” Yuta frowns, “it’s been months since we’ve ended things.”

“Only two,” Kun corrects.

“Two is enough to realize many things.” Yuta says softly. He takes Kun’s hand in his hesitantly and Kun lets him intertwine their fingers. “For example, i’ve realized that all these flings mean nothing even though I do end up being upset about them not working out, and that I shouldn’t have been so adamant on looking and wishing for love,” and he squeezes Kun’s trembling hand, “when i’ve had you all along.”

Kun feels oh so warm inside, and much much lighter, as if the butterflies in his chest finally exploded, leaving room for a whole new feeling, something akin to happiness and joy. “You wear glasses but you’re so blind.” He smiles, and it’s wide and sincere, and Yuta swears he could kiss him right there and then.

“I wish I realized it sooner.”

“It’s alright,” Kun says softly, “better late than never, right?”

Yuta nods once, and then again. “Can I kiss you?” He rushes out, fiddling with Kun’s hand, obviously nervous.

Kun only chuckles. “Please do.”

 

“Do you still think love is overrated?” Kun asks on a wintry evening. Snow fell in even layers the night before, turning the city into a winter wonderland right like in fairytales. Even in the darkness, the snow twinkles prettily, reflecting yellow and gold from the artificial lights, and Kun endures the cold for such a pretty sight, unlike his boyfriend.

“What? No, of course not. But you know what is?” Yuta grumbles underneath his knitted scarf. “Valentines day. It’s a whole capitalist holiday for companies to scam couples out of money.” His nose and ears and red because of the cold, eyes a bit watery, and he peeks at Kun through the snowflakes on his long eyelashes and bangs. 

“You sound bitter and single.” Kun giggles, rocking their hands back and forth.

“I’m bitter, yes, but not single, and do you really need that huge teddy bear? You’re an adult.”

“Of course I do.” Kun assures, “And stuffed toys are not limited for children. You promised to get it for me anyways,” he pouts, “don’t you love me?” 

“I do,” Yuta exhales a large cloud of warm air, breathless. Chunks of snowflakes fall onto his hair evenly, and the combination of the redness of his nose and the flush of his cheeks makes him much prettier than any winter landscape Kun has ever seen.

He tugs on Yuta’s scarf, and leans in to peck his cold button nose, feeling as if he could melt the snow from the warmth he’s emitting and grow snowdrops right in the middle of winter under his step, a smile never leaving his face. “I love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> find me on twt! @eyeronicmuch


End file.
